Face hurts. Inside the swollen cheek, torn flesh touches her tongue. The taste of iron. Saki lies on the cold stone floor, eyes open. Major Dorf's fists from last night. Camila's cold towel. How long has it been since then? Outside the window, the sky begins to whiten. Morning comes. (I don't want to move.) Bruises throb all over her body. Every time she moves a single finger, a dull pain jumps beneath her skin. But more than that—her heart won't move. She doesn't want to think. Doesn't want to feel. The door opened. Without a sound. "[cold]Get up." Madame Vespa's voice. Saki's body goes rigid. The slave brand on her neck throbs sharply. Vespa stands in the doorway. Black dress. Cold golden eyes. The jewel on her left ear dully reflects the pale morning light. In her gaunt hand, a sheet of parchment. "[cold]Come to the office. Now." Saki tried to stand. Her knees buckle. She braces a hand against the wall, somehow forcing her body upright. Vespa has already turned her back, walking down the corridor. —Follow me. Stone corridor. Cold pierces the soles of her bare feet. The morning light slanting through the windows casts long shadows. From somewhere distant, someone's sleeping breath. Behind a door in another room, faint sobbing. The office. Shelves of ledgers covering the walls. Candlelight flickers. Vespa sits behind the desk, looking up at Saki. Her golden eyes trace Saki's swollen face. "[cold]A complaint came from Major Dorf." She places the parchment on the desk. Taps it with her fingertip. Tap. Tap. "[cold]No refinement. Makes customers uncomfortable. Defective as merchandise—that's what it says." Saki tried to say something. But her mouth won't open. Her swollen cheek holds the words back. "[cold]I evaluated you last night—but it's disappointing." Vespa's voice is flat. Emotionless. Just paperwork. "[cold]You're not up to standard for the main floor. You'll be using the basement starting tonight." The basement. Saki didn't know what those words meant. But—Vespa's tone was just slightly lower than usual. That alone was enough. She knows. This is not normal. Her legs tremble. She tried to convince herself it was pain from the brand. But it's not. This is—fear. "[scared]The basement… what do you…" Her voice came out hoarse. Vespa doesn't answer. She's already picked up her quill, writing something on another document. Saki no longer exists in her field of vision. "[cold]Go back. The guards will come for you tonight." The conversation was over. Night. Stone stairs leading down to the basement. Torchlight casts wavering shadows on the walls. One step. Another step. Every time she nearly misses her footing, a guard's hand grips Saki's arm hard. "[cold]Walk faster." Two men. Former mercenaries. They flank Saki in silence, dragging her down into the basement. Stone corridor. Damp air. Mold, and sweat, and something cloyingly sweet. The special room. The door opens. —Three men are already waiting inside. A fat merchant type. A thin noble type. An older man staring at Saki with a blank expression. Each stands around a cloth-covered bed. The room has no windows. No ventilation. Only the magic lamp on the wall illuminates the red, stagnant air. "[scared]What… is this place…" Her voice trembled. In that instant—arms wrapped around her from behind. "—!" A female assistant. Expressionless. Muscular arms pin Saki's thin body from behind. "[cold]Crimson Dream powder. Have her inhale it." A leather pouch was pressed against Saki's face. Crimson Dream powder—a magic drug. In an instant, memory floods back. Gallon's prisoner transport wagon. That night, the sensation of her body no longer being her own. That hell where pleasure and terror mixed together. "[angry]Sto—" Before she could scream, the Crimson Dream powder was forced against her nose and mouth. —She inhales. No time to resist. Her lungs fill with the powder. Heat races through her entire body. Every inch of her skin becomes abnormally sensitive. Even the flow of air turns into stimulation. The weight of her clothes feels painful. "[sad]Ah… ah…" Her knees gave out. She puts her hands on the floor. The coldness of the stone feels like burning. The fat man approached. He grabs Saki's chin. Her face is lifted. "[cold]Hoh. Not bad skin." Eyes appraising her like merchandise. His finger traces Saki's lips. "[scared]Stop it…" The voice leaked out. But her body won't move. The Crimson Dream powder's effect spreads heat from everywhere she's touched. She wants to refuse—but her skin reacts. (No, no no no no—) Even as her heart screams, her body is no longer Saki's. "[cold]Tonight, the three of us will enjoy ourselves. Taking turns. Plenty of time." The men laughed. She's pushed down onto the bed. Her back sinks into the cloth. The red light of the magic lamp sways on the ceiling. —From there on, it was hell. The fat man climbs on top. The sound of a belt coming undone. An exposed penis. Saki's clothes are violently torn apart. Her breasts are exposed, the man's hands roughly kneading them. "[crying]No…" Something hard pressed against her vagina. —She is pierced. "Aaahhh!!" Pain. But the Crimson Dream powder turns it into pleasure. Deep inside her body, it accepts the man against her will. She begins to grow wet, and she hates herself for it, hates it unbearably. The man's hips slam against her. Pistoning. The sound of flesh hitting flesh. Moans escape Saki's mouth. "Nn, ah, aah…!" (No, this isn't me—) The drug's fault. She wants to believe that. But the pleasure was real. The man ejaculated. Semen released inside her vagina. Hot. A thick, sticky sensation filling her deep inside. The man pulls out. Immediately, the next man covers her. The noble type. He grabs Saki's hips, flipping her onto her stomach. From behind, the glans presses against her anus. "[crying]Not there, sto—" Without any lotion, she is pierced in one thrust. "—Gih…!!" Tearing pain. Tears overflowed. She presses her face into the pillow, killing her voice. Still, the man thrusts his hips without concern. The sensation of her anus being spread open, violated deep inside. (I can't take this anymore…) Her consciousness snapped off. —Awakening. A pungent smell at her nose. The female assistant presses a small vial of magic potion against Saki's nose. "[cold]Don't sleep. Make it last until morning." Her consciousness is forcibly dragged back. The moment her eyes open, another customer enters her vision. This time, the older man. He grabs Saki's hair, bringing his penis close to her mouth. "[cold]Suck it." The glans pries her lips open. A salty taste inside her mouth. The shaft is pushed deep into her throat. "Nng… u, uh…" Her throat convulses. She feels like throwing up. But her jaw is held in place, and she can't escape. Tears and saliva make a mess of her face. The man thrusts his hips violently. Her throat is violated. She can't breathe. (It hurts—) Semen was released inside her mouth. "Swallow." "Nnk… gulp…" She swallows. The man pulls away. Another man. She doesn't know how many times it's been. Whether the fat man came back, or if it's a different man—she no longer knows. It just repeats. Violated. Loses consciousness. Awakened by magic. Violated again. The boundary between pain and pleasure crumbles. Self-loathing at how her body reacts. The helplessness of being unable to resist even so. Some number of awakenings later. —She didn't even realize she was crying anymore. She just counts the stains on the ceiling stone, vacantly. (One, two, three…) Her body shakes. Someone is moving inside her. She hears voices. But they're distant. (Four, five, six…) Where she is right now. What is being done to her. She unconsciously tries to sever that awareness. (Seven, eight…) Ah. So this—is what it means to break. Before dawn. The last customer leaves the room. "[cold]It's over. Clean this up." The sound of the guards closing the door. Distant. Saki is left alone in the special room. She lies sprawled on the floor. On the cold stone. Naked body. Semen and sweat dried all over her, her skin stretched tight. Her whole body hurts. But she can't even tell where it hurts most. (Am I… alive…) She tried to cry. But no tears come. She tried to scream. But no voice comes. She looks at her own hands. Whether they're trembling or still—she can't even tell that much. That numbness she felt that day in Gallon's prisoner transport wagon. The fear of her emotions disappearing. Now—she doesn't even feel fear. (I…) Have I just become… a thing. The door opened without a sound. Someone enters. "[cold]Halt. This area is restricted to authorized—" The guard's voice stopped mid-sentence. A silent pressure. Someone who seals words with just a look. Footsteps stop beside Saki. —Camila. Long, dark purple hair. Cold silver eyes. The scar on her left cheek. She crouched down. What she holds—a bowl of water. A wrung-out wet cloth. No words. She simply holds the bowl out before Saki. Saki stared at it. Water. Just water. But—it touched something frozen deep inside Saki's chest. With trembling hands, she takes the bowl. The water's surface ripples. Her hands shake, and water spills. "[sad]…" Ah. She's crying. Tears overflow on their own. Even she doesn't understand why. (Why—) Camila silently places the wet cloth on Saki's lap. Wipes up the spilled water. Just that. "[crying]Why… are you…" Her voice trembles. Sobs break her words apart. "[cold]Because letting you die would be troublesome." A curt voice. But—Saki already understood. This person says things like that. She's just that kind of person. But right now, she's here. In the seven days since coming to this hell— For someone to simply… be there. This was the first time. "[crying]…Thank… you…" The hands holding the bowl tremble. Water spills again. Camila doesn't answer. She just sits beside Saki. On the cold floor. A quiet time, just the two of them. Until the morning light streamed through the corridor window—Camila did not move from that spot.